


Everything

by conniptionns



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Aaron Minyard - Freeform, Dan Wilds - Freeform, M/M, Nicky Hemmick - Freeform, david wymack - Freeform, kevin day - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conniptionns/pseuds/conniptionns
Summary: Baltimore from Andrew's pov“Thank you, you were amazing.”The words sent a thrill up Andrew’s spine. No one had ever spoken to Andrew with such conviction before—at least not in a positive light. Whenever foster parents had spit venom at him, Andrew always knew that they were telling the truth. He had always had a knack for knowing when someone was lying to him, and when his foster parents had told him how worthless he was...he knew they weren’t lying. And that was what he deserved. Not a ‘thanks’ spilling from the lips that had never conveyed so much emotion before.Andrew was certain that he deserved the opposite of a ‘thanks.’ And Andrew was mad, because he never should have let Neil have this much of an effect on him. What was worse was Andrew didn’t think anyone had thanked him for anything before. There was a reason that they called him a monster, and there wasn’t a moment that Andrew had ever disagreed with the assessment. Andrew knew when people lied to him, and he knew that they were being genuine when they called him a monster.Viva la cucaracha or whatever the fuck.





	1. STUPID

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted forever ago, and I have half of my paper written so of course I did the first thing I could think of that might sabotage myself. Someone make me write my thesis.

“Thank you, you were amazing.”

The words sent a thrill up Andrew’s spine. No one had ever spoken to Andrew with such conviction before—at least not in a positive light. Whenever foster parents had spit venom at him, Andrew always knew that they were telling the truth. He had always had a knack for knowing when someone was lying to him, and when his foster parents had told him how worthless he was...he knew they weren’t lying. And that was what he deserved. Not a ‘thanks’ spilling from the lips that had never conveyed so much emotion before.

Andrew was certain that he deserved the opposite of a ‘thanks.’ And Andrew was mad, because he never should have let Neil have this much of an effect on him. What was worse was Andrew didn’t think anyone had thanked him for anything before. There was a reason that they called him a monster, and there wasn’t a moment that Andrew had ever disagreed with the assessment. Andrew knew when people lied to him, and he knew that they were being genuine when they called him a monster.

Viva la cucaracha or whatever the fuck.

It was because Andrew knew when people were lying to him that he knew that this was the most honest Neil had ever been. When Neil had arrived at the Foxhole Court, every other word that came from his mouth was a lie. And Andrew had let him lie. Now here they were, standing across from each other in the locker room after a hard-fought won, and Neil poured every ounce of emotion he could fit into those five words.

Andrew was flying.

But Andrew was terrified of flying.

Neil was searching his gaze, trying to find Andrew’s response? But Andrew could only stand there frozen, staring at Neil until Wymack gave the last call for them to head out to the bus. Neil spun around on his heel and started walking out, Matt following. Andrew wasn’t far behind. It was hard to see Neil around Matt, but Andrew was going to have words with Neil.

Andrew’s gut was in a tumble. He remembered Bee telling him that there was no such thing as too genuine, but Andrew knew that Neil’s thank you had to mean something else. There was something that he was missing. He would sit near Neil on the bus and ask in his most compliant voice what was going on. Anger would make Neil clam up.

Andrew didn’t know why he was angry. The notorious liar decides to tell the truth and that’s the final straw? Andrew should be glad that the tangled threads of Neil Josten were untangling right before him. First the eyes, then the hair, and now the truth.

Andrew had a lot of questions.

They had security at the head and tail of the line, there was a post-game party happening on the green. There was so much alcohol that Andrew felt like he was swimming through a shot. He could feel the burn in his gut. Felt it spread through the rest of his body in thin tendrils.

And then the yelling. The adoring masses were standing along the walkway in a sea of the most putrid orange color. They screamed and called out their names, but that didn’t stop Andrew from hearing the terrible shit the home team’s fans were yelling. All of the ways they would ruin them. Telling them to die. Andrew didn’t have the heart to tell them he gave up on that being the answer a long time ago.

He was surprised that no one said anything. Typically Neil or Kevin would have ugly barbs to hurl back. Renee and Allison would reach out and clasp hands of little girls drowned in orange jerseys. Neither of those things happened. Nicky even kept his mouth shut when the homophobic slurs were thrown. Andrew’s hackles rose but there were more important things than winning a pointless fight.

It was when bottles started flying that Andrew changed his mind. No. It was when bottles started hitting his brother that he changed his mind. If looks could kill.

A shoe was thrown. Another empty beer bottle.

Police were shoving their way toward the Foxes, but it was too late. Andrew knew what a riot looked like. When a cooler full of water flew through the air, he knew there was no restoring order. It hit a drunk fan on the Foxes’ side. The crowd was incensed.

And then Andrew couldn’t see anyone but Aaron. He reached out and snagged his brother by the back of his jersey and ducked under a swinging arm to get Nicky and Kevin. He couldn’t find Neil, but Neil was a runner. The only thing he had to worry about is if Neil got fucking lip with one of the drunks.

Surely he wasn’t stupid enough.

It took Andrew upwards of twenty minutes, but he cut his way through the crowd with an exy racquet.

“Get on the bus.”

“Where are you going?” Kevin asked.

Andrew turned to leave without answering.

“Don’t be stupid, he’s going to get Neil.” Nicky this time.

“Andrew, don’t get yourself killed. You don’t have to protect him anymore!” And then louder when Andrew didn’t stop. “ _ You don’t know what he is capable of!” _

Interest piqued but not enough to make him leave Neil.

It was another thirty minutes before he returned to the bus with Neil’s duffel, phone stuffed into the side pocket.

The world felt like a giant fish bowl. Andrew was under water and everything was wonky from looking through the glass. Nicky was worried and babbling, but Andrew didn’t feel anything.

“What is he capable of?” Andrew questioned.

“Na–Neil is more than capable of taking care of himself is all I meant.”

“Dan and I are going to start calling hospitals. Someone call the police station to see if he was picked up,” Wymack ordered.

Nicky said something about doing just that, but Andrew still wasn’t listening.

“Tell me.”

“Andrew, leave it. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Renee is at Mercy General, but no Neil,” Dan called out.

“Fucking. Tell me.”

“No one matching anyone’s description is at Bellview.”

“Andrew, I can’t.”

“Matt was picked up but they took his BAC and he’s not going to be kept in the drunk tank. He needs someone to pick him up though.”

Andrew didn’t have time to wait. Every minute that they didn’t know where Neil was was a minute that he could be hurt again, because Andrew wasn’t paying attention. He wouldn’t have dropped his bag, his _ racquet  _ for anything. Andrew was picturing all of the worst case scenarios and it wasn’t hard because he had lived all of them at least twice (he wouldn’t realize until later that the truth was worse than anything he could have imagined.)

Andrew launched himself across the distance and wrapped his hands around Kevin’s throat. Aaron yelled out in shock. But Andrew was going to find out one way or another.


	2. FIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be sleeping, but instead I'm making poor life choices and listening to PYNK on repeat (except, this title is BROCKHAMPTON because I had started a theme)
> 
> This is longer now because I have no self-control

It came pouring out of Kevin without stopping. Something about Nathaniel’s father. About murder and subterfuge and definitely some torture. That’s when Andrew stopped listening. His brain short-circuited and one second Kevin was choking out answers around Andrew's clenched fingers on his throat, and the next, Andrew had a cellphone pressed to his ear.

“Boy, do you have any idea what time it is? It has to be even later there.”

“Higgins,” was all Andrew said. Something in his voice must have alerted the other man to the seriousness of the situation because there wasn’t a grouchy civilian on the other end of the line. Suddenly there was Deputy Sheriff Patrick Higgins.

“Tell me everything, son.” He didn’t bother telling Andrew he could fix it. The man had stopped those sort of promises to his kids years ago.

“They took Neil,” Andrew choked out. Higgins didn’t know who Neil was to Andrew, but he knew Andrew and he knew that there wasn’t a single time in the history of ever that he had willingly called a police officer.

“I’m listening.”

“Apparently Neil’s father is a murderer and he took Neil to kill him like he was supposed to eleven years ago. I—” Andrew cut himself off to huff out a short, frustrated noise, “I need your help.”

“I’m calling the FBI.”

“If I knew the number for the fucking FBI, I could have skipped this step. Obviously.”

“Stay on the line.”

Andrew handed off the phone to Coach because he didn’t think he could hold the little flip phone in his hand without snapping it into pieces. His hands shook when he went to take a the last cigarette out of the packet. The stupid fucking piece of shit lighter wouldn’t start, and Andrew got increasingly more frustrated at each _snick_ that didn’t result in flame.

Wymack was speaking in low, urgent murmurs, but Andrew didn’t care to listen. The one time he fucking takes back a promise and this happens. What a stupid fucking pipe dream. Andrew threw the lighter at the ground and squatted onto the curb. Aaron came and took the cigarette out from between his lips and when he handed it back to Andrew, it was lit. Andrew smoked it with record speed and before he could stub out the butt, another was being pressed into his hand. It was a Marlboro Black, he choked on the smoke, eyes watering. Those were Neil’s cigarettes. Andrew wished that Neil was there so he could tell him that blacks were shit and he should stop wasting his money on them. He wished he could give up Reds for the rest of his life and smoke the shitty menthol crap that Neil liked, just to have him back for one more minute. To be able to take him into his arms and kiss the look out of his eyes when Neil said _Thank you_. It would haunt Andrew for the rest of his life.

Andrew was going through the motions and smoking. He hadn’t moved from where he was hunched in the back of the bus, puffing smoke out of the open window. Wymack usually banned cigarettes on the bus, but he hadn’t said a word to Andrew.   
Sometime around three in the morning, Matt showed up with gas station food for everyone. He handed Andrew a bruised banana and a pack of Reds and Blacks each. Andrew slumped further into the seat and ripped the plastic off the blacks. He ate the banana between cigarettes. It tasted like ash.

Allison and Renee were picked up from Mercy General. They looked beat to shit and for once, Andrew couldn’t muster the anger to want to defend his friend. He slipped her one of his knives and she nodded. She reached out for the other knife as well.

“I’ll take care of all of them, Andrew. Even Kevin.”

Andrew was loathe to part with any weapon, but he knew that to get to Neil, he wasn’t going to need knives.

Eventually, a man who was in every way unassuming from his looks to the way he dressed introduced himself as Federal Agent Kurt. Nicky didn’t even make a quip about Kurt Cobain, because for once in his life, not even the small things that he used to cope with stress and anxiety were enough to get him to make a joke.

“I am Federal Agent Kurt Goggins. We are offering Nathaniel a plea in exchange for information on his father, who is deceased. We hope to get enough to put the rest of his people away for good. It will help if Nathaniel testifies in court. Even if it’s not a jury hearing, no judge could look at that poor son of a bitch and not agree to whatever it took to get him looking semi-normal again. My suggestion is you all stick to your itinerary and go home. An agent will be by in a few days to brief you. It goes without saying that you cannot speak of this case to press or anyone outside of this circle.”

“We can’t see, Neil?” Dan asked, emphasizing his correct name.

“He’s in no condition to have guests. He’s lucky he’s not in the ICU. Frankly, that’s only because he wasn’t compliant with the EMS workers and someone, we’re not sure who, floated an obscene amount of money to get him out of the hospital.”

Andrew had had enough. He launched himself at the prick who was talking about Neil like he was a crumpled up piece of paper and it was unfortunate he hadn’t been thrown in the trash.

The only thing keeping Andrew out of a jail cell was Wymack bodily grabbing the younger man and wrapping him in his arms around Andrew’s chest like thick bands. Kurt belatedly unholstered his weapon. Andrew was peaky and frankly ready to be shot. But Andrew somehow got him out of it. His only repercussion was being handcuffed to Wymack.

And then they’re in the fucking bus, not in the hotel anymore. Wymack is moving the bus and Andrew is sitting awkwardly at his side with his left hand stretched out so Wymack can drive.

“I’m going to fucking lose my mind,” Andrew said in a gravelly voice.

“That’s why you’re cuffed to me and not in there with the rest of them waiting for Neil. You know that right?”

“I’m just so pissed. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Andrew, look at me.” Wymack waited until he had the younger man’s eyes. “If you think that I’m not just as mad as you are. If you think that I’m not ready to strangle each and every person that stands between me and Neil Josten or Nathaniel or whoever the fuck he’s going by, you’re out of your goddamn mind. I’m not privy to what is going on between you and Neil, nor do I want to be, but you need to understand that you’re all my kids. And nobody, not even the government, fucks with my kids.”

“I didn’t—”

“And if you think that I’m going to let you fuck this up for either of us, getting all of my kids back together, you’re dumber than I thought you were.”

“No I understand.”

“That includes you, dipshit.”

It wasn’t funny but it made Andrew snort. Everything had felt like it was a dream. Like it was some nightmare and he was in sleep paralysis, unable to wake himself, but this was real and there was nothing Andrew could do to make it better except to go along with everything. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to do something stupid the next time someone stood between him and Neil, but he would give Wymack a heads-up before he went ape shit.

It was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment. I am slowly going insane doing my thesis and need the distraction, even if I don't answer right away I read them over and over.


	3. FAKE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's longer again???

The door to the hotel room with Neil inside was locked.

Wymack jiggled the handle impatiently, but Andrew wasn’t in the mood to be thwarted. He took a step back and drove the heel of his foot into the door next to where the lock was mounted. The door started to splinter. Before Wymack could yank Andrew back, Andrew was rearing back to kick at the door again.

Wymack was standing right behind Andrew when they forced their way into the room.

Fucking Kurt reached out to Andrew like Andrew’s obvious distaste for the man would distract him from getting to Neil. As if something so meaningless in the moment could stop him.

Before Andrew could reach for knives that weren’t there, Wymack jostled Kurt violently, knocking him out of Andrew’s path.

But Agent Browning was in the room, and like any well-trained agent, he went for his gun before he tried to deescalate the situation. Andrew wasn’t worried about it. A bullet wasn’t going to stop him. Neil was worried though.

Neil swung both arms up, brutal, grabbing ahold of Browning’s arm and viciously yanked him off-kilter. Apparently that was a very bad idea because Neil let go and hunched over, crushing his bandaged hands to his stomach. Keening out a low sound through clenched teeth.

Neil started to hyperventilate then, air whistling through his clenched teeth. Andrew yanked against the handcuff to hurry Wymack over to Neil’s side. Andrew reached a hand out and hesitated for a second. He thought of everything that Kevin had told him, and then he thought of everything Browning had said when Higgins finally put all the pieces together for them. The man in front of him was everything Browning had said when it all came together. The man in front of him was every inch a lie. There wasn’t anything there that Andrew knew.

Andrew’s dream shattered right before his eyes. A feeling welled up inside him and until then, Andrew had left it unnamed. Andrew was _with_ a lie.

The thing about choosing to be with a person was that they were a person fully capable of telling lies. The other thing about choosing to be with a person was choosing to be with them in spite of the mistakes they made. Neil Josten was a lie but the man himself was not. He was an ugly mess of bandages.

Andrew reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. He opened his eyes and tried to straighten up to look at Andrew, but Andrew grabbed his shoulders and forced him to his knees. The dumbass was going to hurt himself beyond repair because he wouldn’t just sit _still_.

“Leave it,” Wymack ordered. Andrew was proud that Coach had the balls to order around Federal Agents with guns. It made Andrew feel safer. He sounded so angry and it made the feeling inside Andrew swell.

Andrew looked at the man in front of him with a critical eye. He turned up his hands in offering and looked up at Andrew.

Andrew felt like his world was spinning apart. He was going to go flying off the face of the earth because there was nothing to hold onto. There was nothing and that was it. Nothing was always the fucking problem.

Andrew reached out and grabbed his chin, turning his head to the light caught his face.

They studied one another for what felt like ages. His face was a mess of bandages and Andrew didn’t know how to feel about it. There was something so very wrong about seeing that. There was no way to choke down the emotion swirling up from Andrew’s gut.

“They could have blinded you,” he said to Andrew. He must have meant the bruises that littered the side of Andrew’s face. A stray elbow that caught Andrew in the face and eye sometime during the riot, while trying to get Aaron to the bus.

“All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?”

Andrew only stared in response, gripping tighter to Nothing. He almost wished he believed in a deity so he could cry out to them and beg for help. He had refused to think of _him_ as Neil, because he wasn’t. Not anymore. But wasn’t he though? Aside from a few lies that, given the situation, made sense, he was still the same man that Andrew had chosen. Andrew chose him. Chose Nothing. Chose Neil.  It was such a heady thing. He was barely ready to admit it to himself, and frankly, he didn’t trust Neil with the information just then. Maybe not for a long time. As much as Andrew longed to reach out and pull Neil into his protection, the man didn’t really fucking deserve it.

If Neil hadn’t lied from the start, Andrew could have been prepared. He could have been ready and he could have taken care of what needed taking care of. But Neil lied and he lied and lied and lied, and it ended here. Or Andrew was gone. Andrew hated himself so much, but that was the one thing he wouldn’t budge on. He promised himself a long time ago that he had lost all that he would have to lose.

If Neil wasn’t honest from then on, Andrew would kill that motherfucker himself.

Dame más knives, bitch.

Andrew let go of Neil’s face so he could yank the hood out of the way.

There was a mess of tape covering an excessive amount of gauze. Andrew idly ran a finger across the tape zigzagging across Neil’s face, looking for an edge. He started with his left side, exposing three striped lines left by a knife. The skin around the stitches was red and tight, and the cuts looked deep enough that Neil could probably taste the stitches. Andrew dropped the bandage. Air would help it heal, now that it was closed. Andrew had experienced enough to know that.

The tape on Neil’s other cheek tugged on sensitive skin. Andrew froze, hand hovering over Neil’s face like it was some weird misshapen claw that appeared out of nowhere.

Andrew wanted to scream. He wanted to kill Neil’s father. But he didn’t let that show. The next person that said some fuckshit was going to die.

The mottled skin was literally melted on Neil’s face. Angry and raw around the edges. It looked like a fucking cigarette lighter from a car was taken to his face.

“Christ, Neil,” Wymack hissed, angry. Andrew agreed.

A bed creaked and Andrew’s eyes flicked up to see Matt where he was getting up to walk to Neil.

Wymack made a gesture with the hand that was cuffed to Andrew and said, “Don’t.”

“One at a time,” Browning reminded them.

Or you’ll fucking what you piece of shit.

Andrew pressed two fingers to the underside of Neil’s chin to turn his head. Neil was complacent and Andrew was so fucking mad that Neil would trust him, trust anyone that much after what had happened. His father was the fucking Butcher of fucking Baltimore. Kevin had told Andrew what that man did to people. What he said while he did it. This bandage, Andrew delicately placed by his foot to replace in time.

When there were no more bandages to pull off, Andrew dropped his hands only to fist them in Neil’s hoodie. He didn’t know how to let go. There were so many scenarios where this meeting ended with Andrew never seeing Neil again, and he hadn’t decided how to feel about it.

Andrew was going to burn the world down.

“I’m sorry.”

Trust Neil to come up with some fuckshit. Andrew had been looking for Neil all night. He choked out a man he was sworn to protect. He called Pig Higgins to get Neil back. And it was all for Nothing, because Andrew was a fucking moron. There was this dark cloud sitting high in his chest, and he felt hot. The room was stifling and there wasn’t anywhere to go. Neil was kneeling in front of him, and Andrew knew that he couldn’t leave the room unless someone forced him.

Andrew brought his fist back, making Wymack jerk at the violence of his gesture. Andrew didn’t think he could punch someone to death, but there was a moment where he was willing to try it out.

The effort it took to physically restrain himself was monumental.

Andrew catalogued every inch of Neil he could see. He would always remember his beaten, broken face. The bloody ache where his heart was supposed to be. Andrew wasn’t a worrier, he was a solver. He either fixed a situation or punched his way out of it because that was all that was left. He had given so much in his life and he was coming up empty while scraping the bottom of the barrel.

The last vestiges of calm were there though. The thought that Neil thought that maybe he deserved it. That it was some cosmic retribution for whatever lies he hadn’t confessed to Andrew. The only thing more satisfying than killing a stupid junkie like Neil was informing Neil how much of a stupid junkie he was.

Andrew’s hand slowly went lax, but his voice was deadly serious when he said, “Say it again and I will kill you.”

Neil nodded slightly.

“This is the last time I’m going to say it to you,” Kurt said, coming up behind Andrew with venom in his voice. “If you can’t stow that attitude and behave—”

Neil’s eyes flashed with more hate than Andrew had ever seen in his life. He looked up at Kurt and spit, “You’ll what, asshole?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be my last fic update for awhile, wish me luck and read the fic I just wrote with exybee [Feels Like Wasted Youth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373456/chapters/33184479)


	4. BOYS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED MY THESIS! I GOT AN A! IF YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT WHY WE MISCOMMUNICATE IN POLITICAL CONVERSATION USING SEMIOLOGY AND MORAL FOUNDATIONS THEORY HMU.
> 
> If this cuts off awkwardly, it's because it's all I have of chapter 14 for right now lmao. [Kurakaw](kurakaw.tumblr.com) is sending me the rest, but I didn't want to leave you hanging because I'm lazy :P

“The same goes for you, Nathaniel. That’s your second strike. A third misstep and this is over. Remember you are only here because we are allowing it.”

Andrew moved to stand up. He had gotten used to threats over the years, had learned that the people sworn to protect and serve were useless when it came down to it. Apparently telling the FBI Agent to _shut the fuck up_ with his attitude hadn’t translated to the stupid, pencil-pushing motherfucker, so Andrew, like always, was going to have to take matters into his own hands and shut Browning the fuck up himself.

Neil didn’t touch him, but Andrew understood that the hands framing his face were meant to serve as blinders—a physical reminder that Neil needed Andrew to be there, with just him, for a little while longer. Andrew would have said something petty about how Browning was lucky that Neil stopped Andrew, but it sounded like a line from a bad romance novel. There was a hollow ache in Andrew’s gut because he would never get to live out the plot of a romance novel. His life was more of a horror show, but Neil’s hands were gentle even though the look in his eyes said that every inch of the man in front of Andrew was hard lines of violence.

Neil looked surprised that Andrew was listening, and that hurt worse than his swollen, bloodshot eye.

“Don’t lie to a liar,” Neil snarled. “We both know I’m here because you have nothing without me. A pile of dead bodies can’t close cases or play the money trail with you. I told you what those answers would cost you and you agreed to pay it. So take this handcuff off Andrew, get your man out of our way, and stop using up my twenty minutes with your useless posturing.”

Andrew was too shocked to really think about that, but if he had the time to process it all…

_The icy blue eyes across from Andrew were just as cold as his tone and it sent a thrill down Andrew’s spine. If his life was a romance novel it would be a really fucked up novel, but fucking shit Neil was so hot when he was angry. Handcuffed with the FBI breathing down your neck is really not the time to be having incredibly gay thoughts, but there Andrew was. There was a trembling thrill that lit Andrew up from the inside. In his humble gay opinion, there was nothing a red blooded American fantasized about more than being a mob trophy piece. All Neil’s talk about bodies and money hit all of those things. Before the thought was even processed, Andrew shoved it down because as much as that was a fantasy, the reality was scary as fuck and not at all hot. Neil could have died and there was nothing Andrew could have ever done. He couldn’t even unleash holy hell, because it sounded like whoever “The Hatfords” were had taken care of it already. He would have just gotten an email or something else anticlimactic that said Nathaniel Wesninski was dead, and he would have probably deleted it, not knowing the significance of that name. The idea that that could have been his reality left a leaden ache in his gut. This was why Andrew didn’t do feelings. But then he remembered the delicate way Neil’s hands nearly caressed his face, and Andrew didn’t know how to smother the fire that had started in the pit beneath his belly._

Andrew absently flexed his hand. Handcuffs weren’t heavy, but weren’t they?

Finally he found the words that were such a fucking understatement and didn’t at all deserve to be said in that moment, where the only person who had made Andrew _feel_ in the past year, but they slipped out between his stress-slackened lips before he could stuff them back in.

“So the attitude problem wasn’t an act, at least.”

Cue the line that every person in the wrong says in hindsight. “I was going to tell you.”

“Stop lying to me.” _It hurts me. I’m afraid of who I’ve become. I don’t know who I am without you. You’re a dream. You’re a lie. You’re nothing, and I’m so afraid because it was at my lowest that I told myself that nothing could kill me and I finally realized: I was right._

“I’m not lying.” His tone was peeved, practically begging Andrew to hear the truth of his words. “I would have told you last night, but they were in our locker room.”

A voice asked a question, but Andrew wasn’t in the hotel room. For all intents and purposes, he was back in that locker room, looking for threats with his new knowledge and wondering how he could have protected Neil if he had known. If he had known. _Fuck_.

The near flawless German was enough to pull Andrew out of his memories. His and Aaron’s German was still stilted and stammered because a few lessons does not fluency make.

“These were not security people who came for us. They were there for me, and they would have hurt you all to get me out of it. I thought if I shut up, I could get you to safety.” Fuck his German was barely operational, but he got the gist. Neil tapped his thumb against Andrew’s bruising, gentle as a feather. “I did not know that they staged an uprising.” Andrew’s brain belatedly supplied riot. They had staged a riot. Fuck.

“What did I tell you about playing the martyr's card?”

“You said nobody wanted it. You didn’t tell me to stop.”

“It was hinted.”

“I’m stupid, remember? I need things to be written.”

“Shut up.”

“Am I at ninety-four already?”

“You’re at one hundred. What happened to your face?”

“A dashboard lighter.”

Andrew thought he had mistranslated. He almost asked Neil to say it another way, but then he heard the awful sound that Nicky made and the circles around Neil’s face started to make more sense. He desperately wanted it to be a mistranslation. He begged his brain to let it be a mistranslation, but Andrew remembered the car vocabulary lesson that Nicky had given him when he first asked to learn German. There was no mistaking that one.

Andrew felt like he was going to crumple into the floor. _A dashboard lighter. Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE WE AT THE BOILING POINT? Yesterday, I babysat a 5 y/o and a 3 y/o and the 3 y/o bit me so hard I bruised. I then told her she was mean and she hurt me and I didn't want to be friends anymore...she put 7 bandaids on the bite and told me to bite her back (I pretended to bite her finger lmao) Life is weird, but good. How are you?


	5. SWEET

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, I am COMPLETED IT I'm so sleepy goodnite please comment for my ego, she frail

Nicky made a horrible sound and Andrew resonated with it. Frankly, no one in the room was going to be interested in schadenfreude, except the FBI. In Andrew’s experience, those prickly fuckers loved to see people like them suffer. Degenerates, they would say. Regardless, worrying about Neil put Andrew on the verge of passing out. A fucking dashboard lighter. Cars didn’t even come with those anymore.

The mattress groaned under Aaron’s shifting weight. His German was worse than Andrew’s but apparently he got it—if his curse was anything to go by. He moved across the small aisle between the bed and the wall to seek out comfort from Nicky. Andrew couldn’t find it in himself to stop the tidal wave of jealousy that ripped through his gut when he saw it. There was no one Andrew could go to in that moment. His life was a fucking joke. More of the usual.

The rest of the room must have gotten a good glimpse of Neil’s mottled cheek. Kevin recoiled, hard, grabbing at his own face in sympathy. Andrew wanted to take Neil away somewhere safe, of course, but even the mostly docile Matt had murder in his eyes. His girlfriend was probably the only thing keeping him against the wall, and not even she could look Neil in the face. She was a goddamn coward.

“Jesus, Neil, what the fuck did they do to you?” Matt whispered, broken.

Even the image of what could have caused those markings made a hot flash of nausea tear through Andrew like a hurricane. The only thing that could pull him out of it was noticing Abby come around the bed, eyes wide with concern. She looked exactly like all the fucking social workers Andrew had ever had. In that moment, he actually wanted to hurt her.

_There is nothing worse than staring up into a face that is screaming “I have to protect this child” and being forced to realize that no one was ever going to protect you. Those faces full of concern eventually blurred into one androgynous being of concern and it was a goddamn fucking joke. That they would make promises to such a small child, over and over again, only to do nothing in the end. Andrew had learned from a very young age that if you wanted to be protected, you had to do the protecting yourself. Fuck the goddamn rest._

Andrew grabbed Neil’s face in his hands, careful of the markings, and turned him around. Something wild swirled up inside him and his voice was faint when he said, “Get away from us.” _I can protect him. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. We don’t need you. Like every other goddamn do-gooder in the world, none of you do any fucking good. You’ll only hurt him more and I’m already afraid like hell to lose him. Just stay the fuck back_.

“Andrew, he’s hurt. Let me see.”

_You think I don’t fucking know that? I know that, okay? If anyone knows that, it’s me. I am so fucking aware right now._

“If you make me repeat myself, you will not live to regret it.” He was back to fucking posturing fuck him. He felt like a twelve year old boy who couldn’t protect himself or anyone else.

Neil gave him a strange look. Andrew wished that he would stop looking at him like that. His heart was screaming _this one matters_ and nothing was supposed to matter. This was supposed to be the fucking drugs. A side effect. He’s so fucking gone on this boy. Andrew’s self-control was in shreds and he just knew that he was going to end up in federal prison by the end of the night, all for those goddamn blue eyes. Fuck.

Neil tugged on Andrew’s hair once, twice, three times, before Andrew would deign to look at him.

“Abby, I just got out of the hospital. I’m as good as I can be right now.”

“Neil,” Abby began.

“Please,” Neil stressed.

When she stepped back, Andrew finally found it within himself to let go of Neil’s skull, where he’s sure his fingers left tiny goose egg bumps from the pressure he exerted. Neil doesn’t falter, he just kept one hand fisted in Andrew’s hair and dropped the other to snag Andrew’s jacket at his hip.

Neil switched to German. “Did they tell you who I am?”

“You did not have to, I smothered Kevin’s answers on the way here.”

Neil gave a brief smile at Andrew’s mistranslations.

“I suppose you were not an orphan,” Andrew continued. “Where is your father now?

“My uncle executed him.” Neil pressed two fingers to Andrew’s chest over his heart and shuddered. “I spent my whole life wishing he would die, but I thought he never would. I thought he was invincible. I can’t believe it was that easy.”

“Was it easy? Kevin told us who he worked for.”

Andrew was smart enough to know that even if the FBI didn’t know German, he shouldn’t use the names anyway.

“My uncle said he was going to them to try and negotiate a ceasefire. I don’t know if he’s strong enough to bargain with them, but I’d like to think he wouldn’t have risked it without real ground to stand on. Promise me no one’s told the FBI about them.”

“No one has told them a word since they said we could not see you.” Ain’t nobody a snitch in this house.

“But why? I did not do anything but lie to them. I liked to put them all at risk so I could play a bit longer, they got hurt because of my last night. Why should they protect me now?”

“You are a fox,” he said it like he thought Neil was stupid and maybe he was.

Neil dropped his eyes and worked his jaw. His voice was in shreds when he said, “Andrew they want to get me out of here, they want me to sign up in the witness protection program so that my father’s people cannot find me, I do not want to—“ He started over, “If you tell me to go, I’ll go.”

Andrew grabbed Neil by the collar of his sweatshirt and yanked just hard enough for him to know that there was intent behind what he was saying.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” In English this time, because it was instigation time. “You’re staying with us. If they try to take you away, they will lose.”

“Take you away? To where?” Dan asked.

“Are we talking about away for some questioning or away for good?” Matt questioned.

“Both,” Browning supplied.

“You can’t have him,” Nicky cried. “He belongs with us.”

“When people find out he is still alive, they will come for him. It is not safe for him here anymore, and it sure as hell isn’t safe for you. It is better for everyone if he disappears.”

All of the Foxes understood better than the FBI agents would ever understand. Through everything with Kevin and Riko’s fuckshit. The foreboding words left no impression on any of them.

“What part of ‘go to hell’ do you need us to explain to you?” Allison asked, miffed.

“We’re all legal adults here. We’ve made our decision. Unless he wants to stay with you, you better bring Neil back to us when you’re done with all your questions.” Trust Matt the Golden Boy to stick up for Neil.

“‘Neil’ isn’t a real person.” Browning was fed up. “It’s just a cover that let Nathaniel evade authorities. It’s past time to let him go.”

Neil winced.

“Neil or Nathaniel or whoever. He’s ours and we’re not letting him go,” Nicky said. “You want us to vote on it or something? Bet you it’ll be unanimous.”

“Coach Wymack, talk some sense into your team.”

“Neil, talk to me, what do you want?”

Neil swallowed hard, his words jagged when he can finally force them out. “I know I shouldn’t stay, but I can’t—I don’t want to lose this—I don’t want to lose any of you. I don’t want to be Nathaniel anymore. I want to be Neil for as long as I can.”

“Good. I’d have a hell of a time fitting ‘Wesninski’ on a jersey.”

“I would like a word with you.”

“About?”

“Your willingness to put your players in considerable danger, for one.”

“Giving up on Neil goes against everything we are. I’m game to argue with you about it for as long as it takes, but not if it means using up Neil’s allotted time. That’s not fair to any of them.”

Andrew yanked on Neil’s hoodie and switched back to German. “Get rid of them before I kill them.”

“They’re waiting for answers,” Neil was placating. “They were never able to charge my father while he was alive. They’re hoping I know enough to start decimating his circle in his absence. I’m going to give them the truth, or as much of it as I can without telling them my father was acting on someone’s orders. Do you want to be there for it? It’s the story I should have given you months ago.

Did Andrew ever. “I have to go. I don’t trust them to give you back.”

Andrew let go over Neil and pushed himself to his feet. Neil got up without any help but he struggled a bit before turning to Wymack.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I couldn’t.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Wymack replied. “Twenty minutes isn’t near long enough for this conversation. We can talk about it on the ride back to campus, right?”

“Yes. I promise. I just have to talk to them first.”

“Then go,” Dan said.

Neil turned around shocked and Andrew thought he was going to have to kill a son of a bitch after all before she stressed, “But come back to us as soon as they’re done with you, okay? We’ll figure this out as a team.”

“As a family.” Nicky attempted a smile and Andrew fucking loved him for it.

“Thank you,” Neil said, emotional.

Allison waved off his thanks. “No, thank you. You just closed three outstanding bets and made me five hundred bucks. I’d rather find out exactly why and when you two hooked up than think about this awfulness any longer, so let’s talk about that on the ride back instead.

Nicky’s mouth gaped open like a fish.

Neil turned back to Andrew. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you.” God Andrew was so fucking gay.

“I didn’t invite him,” Agent Browning said.

“Trust me,” Wymack said. “You’ll fare a lot better if you take them both.”

Browning looked pissed but all he said was, “We’re leaving now.”

Wymack got in one last thing before the door shut. “We’ll wait for you, all right? As long as it takes, Neil.”

Andrew followed Neil and Browning down the stairs before they climbed into the backseat of a nondescript SUV. Browning slammed the door when he got in and Andrew was pissed that his romance was becoming a shitty cop drama.

“Can I really be Neil again?” Neil asked in German.

“I told Neil to stay. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father.”

“Neil Abram Josten,” Neil murmured, digging his fingers into the bone of Andrew’s wrist. Andrew finally found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love u :)


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